


Breathe During the Rests

by judas_isnt_col



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ian, Drug Abuse, Gallavich, Lots of foul language, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Prison, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Tendencies, Suicidal Thoughts, and i fucking rAN WITH IT, basicallly, i actually cried at a lot of parts writing this, i found a hc somewhere where it was like "mickey was an orchestra kid in elementary school", letter format, mickey being a poetic lil shit, mickey is writing to ian, mickey plays the violin, oh boy, probably mentions of sex, there's a female OC but she's very minor, this was just some random ass shit i found
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:59:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9692624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judas_isnt_col/pseuds/judas_isnt_col
Summary: Mickey is drunk on the thought of Ian Gallagher the day he scribbles down the first letter. Angry drunk. As he reminisces on his old career as the first chair violin of the fifth-grade orchestra, he unknowingly forms a habit that sticks with him for the rest of his prison life. He writes down every little thought that comes into his head at the end of each day, and you can't exactly call it coping, but.It helps.





	1. dear ian

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Welcome to this. I have a lot of it pre-written so unlike my other Gallavich fic, hopefully it will not be abandoned after 2 chapters. Just a forewarning, the grammatical and spelling errors ARE intentional! I tried to really get into Mickey's perspective to write it out so I wasn't as precise with my syntax as I wanted to be. I will be posting each letter as its own chapter, and I'll figure out a schedule for posting after it picks up off of the ground (if it does, at least). Hope you enjoy!

dear ian

I decided that I'm gonna start doing this. this. whatever the fuck it is. but i'm writing to you now, even if you wont ever ever read it. prison is shitty okay? ive got nothing better to do. so if youre thinking im doing this because i miss you, you better fucking stop. thats not it.

  
did you know that i used to play the violin? i dont think i ever mentioned it. i dont think you ever really wanted to know. it was nice. i could have gone back to school just to take orchestra again. the songs that we played sounded really cool, one time we even played a guns 'n roses song, it was sweet child of mine. i couldnt ever get the shift right, but i played the loudest. terry didnt ever know either, he would have beat the hell out of me if i ever tried to bring a violin home and play some music while he was there. i had to leave the violin i borrowed from the school in the orchestra room. you know theres this thing in sheet music that reminds me of you when i think about it. its called a syncopation and its when theres a short note in front of a long note and because of the way its all set up, youve gotta play kind of a pause between the notes.  
i think youre a syncopation, ian gallagher.

  
or you cause them. i dont know. this sounds all stupid and poetic, im not meaning that. but you make me pause when i think about you. its like i was just stuck playing so many short notes all together for so long and i was going too fast, and then you showed the fuck up with your freckles and your red hair and your puppy eyes and you made me pause. and i played a long note for you, real slow.

  
i slowed down for you. you hear me? you get it? i slowed down. i changed my time. i fixed my shit. after that pause i played a long note and then a short one and a pause and a long one again, and i learned to go and go and go like that and you just gave it all up.

  
do you know how fucking hard it was? course you dont. i dont know. i know things were all fucked up for you. i never wanted to change you ian i just wanted to help. i just wanted to be a long note in your fucked up gallagher life but theres no room for that.

  
you arent the syncopation. you know what you are ian gallagher?

  
youre the tremolo. youre nothing but shaking hands sawing at the strings like you wanna fucking break them.

  
so maybe im not like whatever the fuck his face is and maybe i dont know words too well but i know music and i can use music.  
and i dont know why the fuck im saying all this now. i just wanted to tell you i played violin. i just wanted to fill up some space on this stupid fucking paper. but you just pull it out of me, whenever i think of you i just need to say so much.

  
theres this weird program for learning instruments in the prison. they still do corny kinda shit to "keep the prisoner's spirits up" and shit. i think i might sign up to play violin again.

  
i think maybe that can be something that i didnt do for you. violin had nothin to do with you. so i wont have to think of you if i play it again. i can have my thoughts back for a few fucking minutes.

  
i just fucking love you ian gallagher.

  
-  
mickey.


	2. dear ian

dear ian

  
its been a really long time since i wrote that first letter. i was having a pretty fucking bad day when i scribbled all that shit down. if you ever read it im sorry i was so angry. just get all sorts of fucked up in this god awful place.

  
i miss mandy so much. that stupid bitch was my best friend you know? she was yours too but there are so many things about her that you dont know and i wish you knew her all the way like i do. because youd love her even more than you already do and she might be a brat but she deserves that shit. her favorite color is yellow because mom used to go to parks and shit and steal sunflowers from their gardens and bring them home for mandy. god mandy loved our mom so much. looked up to her like she was an angel. i guess compared to me and terry she kind of was an angel. mandy made hot chocolate for everyone when there were storms out. she would leave cups of it on the counter for me and iggy and joey and jamie and tony and she even always left one outside of terrys door for him and the bastard may be cold and fucking terrible and disgusting but he still drank it.

  
shes nice like a gallagher but shes still tough like a milkovich. dont know how she manages both. dont know what she did to deserve all that nasty shit she got.

  
playing the violin as a distraction didnt work at all. we've got old music donated from high schools and it seems like i can find some fuckin piece of you in every single sheet. yesterday you were dolce and i played soft and thought of how you used to sing when you thought i was asleep. today i found you in some jazz shit and you were swing notes cause theyre all inconsistent and its easy to get lost as hell in it. the shrink who put this whole music thing together wants me to teach some of the other inmates. theres this one angry girl anna that wont talk to no one but she really wants to learn violin i guess so she talked to me.

  
when she talked to me i thought of you and i thought of what youd do if she asked you and so i said yes and im gonna show her how to play the fuckin swan lake song because everybody loves that song. i played it like three times in school.

  
i wish you'd come visit me. maybe i could give you these letters. you could read em and i bet you'd have to look up all the things like syncopation and tremolo and dolce and swing notes cause you wouldnt know what they mean. and i bet when you read what dolce is you'd get that stupid cocky look on your face and smile and start teasing me about it.

  
thatd be nice.

  
-  
mickey.


	3. dear ian

i told anna about you. she said she would be mad after all the shit you did.

  
you know im not mad right?

  
promise.

  
-  
mickey.


End file.
